Sleepless Night
by Tracie1
Summary: Written originally for the LJ backtothefanfic community, this is a very brief account of Marty's thoughts following his return home from 1955.


**Sleepless Night**

**The McFly House**

**Saturday, October 26, 1985**

**5:04 a.m.**

Marty rubbed his eyes as he stared at the words that he had scribbled on the notebook paper. He had thought that by writing some song lyrics and getting some of his feelings out, his brain might relax enough to allow him to sleep.

However, the lyrics were as jumbled as the thoughts that were plaguing him. Frustrated, Marty ripped the sheets of paper from the wire binding, wadded them into tight paper balls and pitched them one-by-one into his wastebasket. Two made it, but the third bounced off the wall and landed on the floor.

"Figures," Marty grumbled. He let the paper lay where it fell as he felt too lazy to get up and throw it in the wastebasket. He stuck the notebook with the other books on the shelf that made up his bed's headboard and lay down on his bed. He sighed again, feeling agitated, as he stared up at his bedroom ceiling. He had felt exhausted when he arrived home, but he was finding it difficult to sleep now.

Marty couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his home didn't feel the same. He felt out of synch with his surroundings. Perhaps, it was because he had been separated from his life's routine for an entire week. Lying on his covers, Marty thought that even his bed didn't feel like his own. The pillow didn't feel as soft and the mattress didn't feel as firm as he remembered.

"Don't be ridiculous, McFly," Marty whispered, scolding himself for such paranoia. "This is my house and this is my bed. Everything is still the same. I just need to readjust, that's all. I've been in a different decade for a week. Of course, things will feel strange at first."

In fact too much had transpired for him to ever view his life in the same way again. Despite all that he had physically been through, Marty found it hard to believe what he had actually done. He had traversed time. Looking back on the whirlwind that had been his week in 1955, Marty felt like he was looking at things from a third-person perspective. It was as if it had all been a lifelike, yet, bizarre dream.

Marty had thought that he had known his parents. The George and Lorraine that he had met in 1955 had been complete strangers to him. He had learned that he was more like his parents than he had ever thought possible. He shared a passion for writing with his father. With his mother; he shared impulsiveness, a hot temper and a determinedly stubborn streak. As far as that damned kiss was concerned, that thought was better blocked from his conscious mind. For the first time in his life, Marty McFly could relate to his parents as human beings and the thought scared him to death. How would he ever be able to look at them as losers again without feeling a stab of guilt for not being able to help them in some way?

Marty's thoughts then drifted from his parents to his best friend. Marty shuddered at the memory of Doc's still body lying in the Twin Pines Mall parking lot. He scrunched his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to shove the image out of his brain. He would never get to sleep thinking about that awful scene. Opening his eyes, he sifted through his besieged mind for a happier memory. An image of 1955 Doc came to the surface. Doc had been testing a new automatic can opener, his recent invention. Marty had watched as Doc tested it on a can of condensed soup. The mechanical device cut into the middle of the can instead of the top, spraying tomato soup everywhere, including Marty and Doc. Marty hadn't known how to react, but Doc had laughed as Copernicus licked the soup off of his shoes.

Marty smiled at the memory. He hoped that his friend was happy on realizing his life's work. He hoped that Doc would find everything he had hoped to find in 2015 and knew that his friend would come home with a hell of a story to share.

Marty rolled over onto his side, now relaxed, his eyes finally closing. As he crossed the threshold into slumber, he had only one thought on his mind.

He was glad to be home and back to his life as he knew it.


End file.
